


Detente

by bees_stories



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torchwood 2, case!fic, ianto in recovery, post-countrycide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bees_stories/pseuds/bees_stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were supposed to be on stand down, able to rest and recuperate from the horrific encounter with the cannibals whilst a couple of Torchwood Two operatives kept an eye on the Rift. But nothing is ever simple, not with Torchwood. And Ianto finds sometimes the easiest way to get over a tough situation is to just barrel straight through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Beta by: lawsontl who planted the seed that spawned this story. Thanks!  
Rating: PG-13 for Torchwood style drama. Takes place shortly after _Countrycide_. Contains minor references to a past suicide attempt, assault, and attempts to cope with same.

***

_"I'm not suggesting we pick out curtains."_

Ianto contemplated his bedroom ceiling, and the offer, and wished he still smoked. He could use a cigarette. Use the way the ritual of smoking could focus his attention and calm his thoughts. But he'd given fags up for Lisa and considered the loss a fair exchange.

His brain was foggy, the pain medication he'd been prescribed for the beating he'd taken packed a hell of a punch, even in a half dose. Sleep would be the best course of action, just pull the blanket higher on his chest and think about sinking down into the mattress until sleep rose up and claimed him, but thoughts of Jack's offer wouldn't leave him alone.

_"I think we have mutual needs."_

And what were those needs exactly? Sex? Most definitely. It was much better to get off with someone else rather than doing it solo. To hear their breathing go ragged as they got lost in pleasure or just lay back and enjoy the ride, letting himself get consumed by sensation as an orgasm made his vision go black and then white again. And when it was good, to have someone to hold afterwards as his breathing slowed back to normal and just for a little while the world seemed a whole and sane place, because what else could it be after making such a visceral connection with another human being?

Sex with Jack, even when Ianto's heart had been full of deceit, the physical act of it had always been good. Fantastic, even. They _fit_ in a way that was out of his comprehension to describe. Maybe it had come from the hyper-awareness they'd developed during their protracted mutual seduction, but how to please one another seemed a natural thing, mouths and hands unerringly seeking the most responsive places. More than once he had watched Jack's eyes go wide in surprise and delight before they fluttered closed and he gave himself over to whatever Ianto's instincts told him would best serve the moment.

And as for what Jack did to him … Ianto sighed. He was never meant to get as caught up in Jack's charms as he had, but once he had fallen it was like all the good drugs he'd messed about with during his misspent youth. Mind-blowing. Intoxicating. Addicting. No wonder just contemplating rekindling their sexual relationship, even if it was wrong on more levels than he could count, was making his skin tingle in anticipation and his cock twitch.

But it was more than sex that Jack was suggesting, though sex was definitely in his thoughts, that was obvious from the way the air had become charged as he alluded to an encounter which seemed more like a vivid dream. Ianto shook his head against the pillows, still unable to wrap his brain around what had happened. His memories were fragmented, but Jack had confirmed them. After being terrorised and nearly beaten to death, after being taken to a small hotel in a cannibal free village to rest and recuperate whilst the police conducted their investigation, after looking at himself in the mirror and swallowing the contents of a bottle of pain pills and then throwing them back up again, he had crawled into bed next to Jack feeling absolutely exhausted and defeated. At some point his nightmares had chased him out of sleep and into Jack's embrace.

They'd had sex. Jack said it was hot and frantic. Ianto closed his eyes and ran his hands over his body imagining they were Jack's. He remembered trying to climb on top. Jack making calming noises and then pushing him down against the mattress and holding him there as he reversed positions so that they could suck one another off. Opening his mouth hurt and Ianto had tried to compensate with his hands, but Jack had been as skilful as ever. It was easier to give up his feeble attempts to reciprocate and press his cheek against Jack's thigh as he was brought to a swift and powerful climax before Jack pulled him into his arms and soothed him back to sleep.

And then it hit him. That's what Jack had been talking about when he said 'you need to be with someone who understands where you're at.' Jack was a career soldier, although the details of his service record were sketchy. Certainly he'd been with Torchwood long enough for it to leave its own scars. He'd obviously suffered his share of traumas and losses. Did he still have nightmares? Given some of their cases, he'd have to be emotionally dead not to. Jack, even though he tried to front as a hard man, suffered as much as the rest of them, maybe even more so because he was the one who made the fate of the world decisions the rest of the team chafed at carrying out. 

It was weighty food for thought, the notion of taking a lover not because you liked them, but because you understood them. Ianto, in his overtired and woolly-headed state, wasn't sure he was up to giving it the consideration it was due. Jack said he would be back in a matter of hours and it seemed only fitting that he give him some sort of an answer, for no other reason then to settle the issue between them once and for all. Ianto closed his eyes again, too tired to think any longer, but even though he was splayed down the centre of the mattress, he couldn't help feeling that the bed was too big with just him in it.

***

Jack was asleep on the sofa. He was apparently in a state of undress, his stark white under-shirt contrasted sharply with the deep blue of the throw that normally was folded over the cushions. Ianto stared down on him, completely confounded by both Jack's presence and why he hurt like he'd been beaten from head to foot with a blunt object, until it all came flooding back in one horrific jolt. "Oh God." He bent over double and started to hyperventilate.

"Ianto?" Jack's voice at first bleary and far away seeming, and then sharp and full of concern. "Ianto! Hey! Come on. Breathe. I know you can do it."

There were arms around him, strong arms, guiding him to the sofa and then pressing him down onto the cushions. He was shivering. Shivering like he might fly apart. He was conscious of grabbing on to the throw and clutching it against his shoulders and those same, strong arms gathering him close, and a litany of comforting noises. "Hey. Shh. It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. There were people out there who wanted to kill him. They wanted to string him up by his heels, cut his throat, and then break down his carcass for the joint for Sunday lunch to be served with roasted potatoes and nice tender peas. He'd got away, but only just, and who knew if the police had rounded up the lot of them. Could they be sure that deviant horde had been locked up and the key not just thrown away but melted down to slag and thrown into the sea?

"Jack?" Ianto couldn't control the tremor in his voice. He sounded so weak and needy that it shamed him even as he reached up to pull Jack's arms even more tightly around him.

"Yeah, I'm here."

They sat that way for a long, long while. Ianto kept repeating Jack's name, and Jack kept replying. Eventually, the terror receded back into the shadows and Ianto dared to look up. "I'm all right now." He didn't sound at all confident, so he repeated it a bit more loudly. "I'm all right."

"You sure?" Jack didn't sound as if he believed him. Ianto dropped one corner of the blanket and looked at his hand. It was trembling like he had palsy, but he nodded anyway.

"I'm going to get up for just a second. Just a second." Jack spoke very slowly. Very calmly. When he moved, he made a point to stay within Ianto's line of sight. "I'm going to go to the shelf and get you a drink."

A drink sounded like a really good idea. Ianto nodded and then worked on taking deep breaths and slowing the beating of his trip hammering heart.

Jack wasn't naked. Ianto noted this fact clinically. As he came out of the miasma of fear he began to observe everything around him in state that felt one step removed. He was wearing dark grey track suit bottoms that looked as if they were new and part of a set. It was odd, as Jack's valet Ianto had seen every piece of clothing in his wardrobe and he was positive he'd never seen those. "New?" he asked quizzically, before he realised he'd even spoken.

"What?" Jack turned away from the little bar on the bookshelf with a half-full tumbler in his hand. He started to pass it over but thought better, dropping back down at Ianto's side and holding the glass to his lips instead.

Ianto cupped his trembling fingers over Jack's and opened his mouth. He took an over-large swallow and let cognac heat a path to his stomach, spreading calm in its wake. He closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the golden glow as it warmed his belly. Feeling a little more confident, he took a second, more measured sip. Jack pulled the glass away, and Ianto saw he had emptied it.

"Better?"

Nodding seemed easier than speaking. Ianto nodded.

"Sure?"

He must really look like hell if Jack were questioning him so. Ianto nodded again.

"Okay. I'm going to the kitchen this time. I'll make tea."

Ianto didn't bother to nod this time. He sank back against the cushions, listened as the tap came on and then a few moments later was shut off again, and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened to him. It was nearly as important to him as when Jack had found the time or inclination to go shopping.

***

A glance at the bedside clock confirmed his impression he'd slept much later than he normally did. A glance in the other direction told Ianto he wasn't alone. Jack was stretched out on the mattress next to him, fast asleep. He had a paperback thriller, the binding broken from being repeatedly opened and folded flat, resting on his chest.

Ianto frowned. He had no memory of Jack arriving. He felt sore and muddled, and his mouth was dry and tasted of old socks. He needed desperately to pee. As quietly as he could manage, he rose and crept down the short hallway. He had just leaned in to turn on the shower when Jack called his name. He sounded alarmed.

"In here." With a grimace, Ianto hauled himself upright and instead of starting the taps, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway so that Jack could see him.

"You okay?" Jack sounded less alarmed, but he still looked worried. 

"I'm fine." Ianto shrugged and winced because it hurt. "I wanted to wash."

The apprehensive look didn't quite fade completely from Jack's eyes. "Do you need any help?"

He had the first time, but then it had been Owen that stood in the shower with him, making sure he didn't slip and hit his head on the tiles. Now, even though he was stiff and sore and doubted he could reach his own back with a brush, Ianto shook his head. His legs would hold him, and the room no longer spun if he moved too quickly. He could manage ten minutes alone in the shower.

Jack nodded. "I'll be just outside. Call if you change your mind."

The hot water felt good as it splashed over his shoulders and down the sore muscles of his torso. It was easy to just stand there and let the spray pummel him, easier anyway then lathering a cloth with soap and running it over his body, because if he let the water do the work he wouldn't have to glance down. He wouldn't examine the livid bruises that mottled his skin in shades of aubergine and indigo. Both Owen and the police surgeon had said he'd been lucky. Though the cannibals had pummelled the hell out of him, neither the rifle butt blow to his temple nor the repeated kicks to his kidneys had done permanent damage. He would mend, given time, although there would be a string of difficult days as his injuries healed. Apparently, these were the sorts of moments they were alluding to.

Ianto sighed. He had told Jack he needed no help, and yet it seemed he did. "No. I can do this." Deliberately, he picked up the soap and the cloth and began to wash as best as he could.

***

Much to his surprise, Jack wasn't stationed out in the hallway like a sentinel. That made him feel a little better, but then, as he went back to his room to dress, Ianto heard Jack's voice from the other end of the flat. He was in Captain mode and sounded quite adamant.

Ianto didn't bother to listen. Jack was often adamant about one thing or another. Sometimes he enjoyed shouting at the world, even if he really didn't need to. It wasn't clear if a propensity to shout was part of his American temperament or just a personal quirk. It wasn't as if Ianto didn't know enough Welshmen who enjoyed shouting for the fun of it. There was one pair of flatmates, both named Dav, during his university days, who seemed to treat shouting as a competitive sport second only to football or rugby.

The bed had been made, but the covers turned down. Neatly laid out on the duvet were Ianto's pyjamas. The implication was as good as an order: Jack wanted him to take it easy, an order Ianto had violated the day before despite explicit instructions to the contrary. Pyjamas meant unless Jack said otherwise, he would not be leaving the flat. He could argue, dress in jeans, or if he really wanted to press the point, in one of his suits, but Ianto decided there was no reason to be a prick when Jack was trying to do right by him. He put on his pyjamas and got back into bed.

"Good boy." Jack wasn't looking for a fight. Whoever had been on the other end of the phone had brought one to him.

"The shower took more out of me than I thought it would," Ianto admitted.

"I'm not surprised. You had a rough night." Jack sat on the corner of the bed, careful not to bounce the mattress unnecessarily. "You want to talk about it?" 

"Not really, no." Despite knowing there was no way they could reach him, the cannibals had scared the living shit out him as Ianto realised afresh just what their intentions had been. Even now, in the bright light of day, thinking too closely on them sent his flesh crawling and made him feel cold and sick. "Who was on the phone?" Ianto asked, desperate to change the subject.

"That was Owen. He's camped out at Toshiko's. She wants to go back to work. He wants to let her. But there's no reason for it. I called a favour in, and Archie sent a team down from Scotland. They have a mobile command centre they operate out of, so there's no reason for any of you to be at the Hub."

Ianto frowned. "Archie's team are artefact retrieval specialists, they're not much good for dealing with weevils or Hoix are they?" 

"They're trained Torchwood operatives. If something like that comes up, they can manage and I'll worry about it then."

"That won't help Tosh, though. Or Owen, come to mention it." Ianto shifted against his pillows. The shower really had taken a lot out of him. "Toshiko is most happy around her maths and computers, working those equations of hers will keep her mind off what happened. She'll be more comfortable at the Hub."

Jack frowned. "You may have a point there. And Owen?"

Raising a shoulder in a half shrug was the best response Ianto could come up with. "Owen needs to get drunk and he needs to shout at someone. He's had his expectations met that the world is a base and awful place and that's upset him. He can't get properly angry as long as he's responsible for patients. Once he's got it out of his system, he'll be all right. Or at least as all right as he ever is."

Ianto glanced up. Jack was frowning and his expression had grown suspicious. "You seem to know an awful lot about what makes us tick."

Ianto averted his gaze. "I studied all of you."

Silence hung between them, heavy and pregnant. Jack blew out a breath. What had happened with Lisa was meant to be in their past, but it wouldn't stay buried.

Jack nodded, acknowledging Ianto's expediency. "What about Gwen? I suppose you studied her too."

By the time Gwen had joined the team, Lisa had been situated in her secret room and caring for her had nearly become a routine. Gwen had sized him up, decided that he wasn't anyone she need concern herself with, and dismissed him from her mind. Ianto had been tempted to do the same, except he had noticed her interest in Jack, and by that point, Ianto needed him. "I have, but she's been difficult to get a read on. She wants to impress you. That may mean coming back to work early if she feels you'd admire her for it."

"She has a crush on me. But if she's kissing Owen, she might be over it."

Ianto shook his head. "She's not. You saw how embarrassed she was. Owen's been sizing her up almost since she walked in the door. He probably made a play for her, and she knocked him back."

Jack's expression was unreadable as he rose and headed for the doorway. Or maybe it was, but Ianto was tired, too tired to parse what was going through his captain's head. "Do you want anything? A cup of tea? Some breakfast?" Ianto shook his head and regretted it. His headache was coming back full force. It must have shown on his face. "Hang on for another couple of minutes. I'll make you some toast so your pain meds stay put. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Ianto replied, and wondered if he had a choice.

***

Two hours later, Ianto was staring down a toasted cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry, because he was, but between getting more sleep then he normally was used to and the powerful pain medication, he couldn't shake the groggy feeling that made him feel like he was wrapped in cotton-wool and half a step out of sync with reality. He decided to concentrate on the sandwich, chewing each bite carefully until there was nothing left but the crust. When he reached for the soup spoon, he noticed that Jack was watching him closely.

"You were right."

Ianto looked up from his spoon. The soup had gone colder than he liked whilst he was working on the sandwich, but conversely, that made it easier to eat without worrying about burning his tongue. "Was I?" He couldn't remember what they'd been talking about before his nap. The surgeon said there might be short term memory lapses. Unfortunately it wasn't his attack that had been blotted away, but bits and pieces afterwards.

"About Toshiko and Owen. I talked to both of them while you were sleeping. The proximity alarm at the Hub triggered twenty minutes later and she's been logged into the computers ever since."

Ianto nodded. Tosh was always tinkering, always refining the tools they used. She had done wonders with the Rift predictor, narrowing the likely window when the fabric of time and space would weaken, but she was always trying to make it better. It was her hope to add a location function, tying the program into the global positioning system so that they could predict not only the time but the place events would occur. "And Owen?"

"Stopped by while you were sleeping. If you're right about him, and given the look on his face, I've no doubt you were, I'll have to leave for a little bit and post bail. Will you be okay if that happens?"

Owen was the only one of them without a war wound. Maybe in the course of the inevitable bar fight he'd black his eye and lose some of his guilt. "Yeah. Jack. I appreciate what you've done for me, but I can manage."

"No," Jack replied flatly. "You can't."

Ianto looked up, too sharply for his equilibrium not to protest, but he held Jack's gaze. "I beg your pardon?"

"Earlier, I asked you about the others' coping mechanisms. Now let me tell you about yours."

Jack dropped into the chair across from him and leaned back, perfectly at ease. "You're a problem, Ianto Jones. The worse things get for you, the more you try and fix them. In moderation that's a positive attribute and makes you an asset. But when it's taken to excess, you don't do anyone any good, least of all yourself. You tried to fix Lisa and nearly got us all killed. Afterwards, you tried to make things up to the rest of us and nearly worked yourself into a state of exhaustion. You clean, and you mend, and you try to tidy your troubles away. I'd send you back to Flat Holm and let them keep an eye on you, but as much as I'd like to, I can't. Not if you're going to get through this and be able to look yourself in the mirror. But Owen said you can't lift as much as a loaded tea tray until you heal up, which means you're not much use to me at the Hub. So what am I supposed to do with you?"

Ianto pushed away from the table and got to his feet. The room swayed dangerously, but the adrenaline surge was a welcome change from the mired in cotton-wool feeling. "I don't need a minder! Sir," he added as a sarcastic afterthought.

"I beg to differ, but that's not what we're talking about." Jack stuck a hand in his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. "What I am talking about is how we're going to fill up your days until you're fit to go back to work." He handed the card over. "For starters, I want you to book an appointment. She comes highly recommended and she works with the emergency services officers so you don't have to worry about her being squeamish."

The card in his hand read Joanne Tiptree, Licensed Clinical Therapist. Her office was located in a residential neighbourhood not too far away. "Therapy?"

Jack nodded. The look in his eye said his decision was non-negotiable. "Granted you'll have to shade a few details about what happened at Canary Wharf and with Lisa because of security issues, but other than that, I want you to spill your guts. I've done the spadework and explained the circumstances, so she's expecting your call. That just leaves the rest of your day."

Ianto sighed. "I suppose this means you've scheduled that for me as well?"

Jack smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Good. You're getting with the program. Mostly, I want you to rest up and heal, but I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with something for you to do."

Ianto glanced down at the table. Something that wasn't a security risk that he could do whilst confined to quarters. He hadn't the faintest idea. He picked up his soup bowl and plate and carried them to the sink, conscious that Jack was watching his every move. "I suppose I just proved your point."

Jack held up his hands. "Or you proved your mum instilled good habits in you. I'm not looking to pick a fight, Ianto."

Ianto sighed. It seemed it was getting to be a habit. "Nor am I. I'm sorry. And it was my gran, actually."

His gran hated mess. Hated the disruption caused by his mother's illness. She had stepped in and taken charge. Run the house and his dad and kept things tidy. Ianto sighed again. It looked like he'd inherited her coping methods.


	2. Chapter 2

***

The call came just as James Bond sent his speedboat flying over the motorway, destroying Sheriff J.W. Pepper's police cruiser in the process. It just went to figure, the climatic chase was one of the best bits. Jack scowled, obviously he'd been enjoying the film as well. "Yeah, thanks. I'll be there." He disconnected the call and unfolded himself off the sofa.

Ianto looked up at him. He'd split his time between watching the film, watching Jack watch the film, and drowsing. "Owen?"

Jack nodded. "Started a fight in a club. Got insistent about taking a girl home and her boyfriend objected."

"Stupid of him."

"Easy way to pick a fight though. And it seems like he was spoiling for one." Jack started to stuff his arms through the sleeves of his coat and then hesitated. "You gonna be okay here on your own for a while?"

"Yeah. Of course." He had a sudden thought. "Jack. Don't forget Tosh. If she's still at the Hub, she won't have thought to eat."

Jack glanced down at his wrist strap and then flipped open the face-cover and prodded a couple of buttons. He frowned at it and closed the cover again. "Do me a favour and order her something from the Chinese. I'll take it to her first and then deal with Owen." He gave Ianto one more searching look and then folded his coat over his arm and let himself out.

Once the film had been scrolled back to where they'd been interrupted, Ianto limped the length of the hallway, grimacing at how stiff he'd become during the enforced sofa time. He retrieved his mobile from the charging cradle, called the takeaway, and placed an order for Jack to pick up. Then he did a mental calculation as to how long it would take Jack to take care of business and placed another order at a second, much closer, restaurant, requesting it be delivered a half an hour after the captain's estimated return. Feeling as if he'd accomplished something useful, Ianto made the painful journey back up the hallway and stretched out to watch the rest of _Live and Let Die_.

***

_Knife-wielding tarot cards chased after him. Ianto ran through the woods. There was no way anyone was going to find his shoes among the collection of grisly souvenirs. He tripped and fell. Too damn clumsy. He had no business being out in the field. Jack was a fool for putting his confidence in him. Ianto was a bigger fool for believing Jack was right._

_The Death card loomed and laughed in a deep, booming voice as it bore down on him._

Ianto gasped. He crouched against the sofa with his arms protecting his neck from the oncoming axe, felt sweat stream down his face and from under his arms, and realised belatedly he was not about to die. 

_"A nightmare. A fucking nightmare."_ He buried his head in his hands, taking gasping lungfuls of air until the room started to spin, and then he clapped one hand over his mouth to stop himself from hyperventilating. _"Christ, maybe I do need a minder."_ The thought made him feel a sharp dual pang of bitterness: at himself for being so weak, and at Jack for not being there to comfort him.

The first time he tried to rise, his knees buckled and he fell back against the cushions. The second time was more successful, although the few steps to the makeshift bar cost energy that Ianto didn't have. With trembling hands he poured a drink despite being cautioned by the police surgeon not to mix his pills with alcohol. But Jack had given him brandy, so he figured a small one couldn't hurt. He sipped at the glass rather than gulped the shot he'd allowed himself and then put the bottle out of reach.

There was an emergency number on Joanne Triptree's business card. Ianto dialled it and made an appointment for the following morning.

***

The Chinese food showed up when it was anticipated, but Jack didn't. Ianto resisted the lure of the takeaway bags until his hunger got the better of him and then he ate lukewarm noodles and spring rolls, leaving the stir fried chicken and the other dishes. The later Jack got, the more Ianto worried. That bothered him. There were perfectly logical reasons for the captain to be missing. Maybe Tosh needed to talk or maybe Owen had proved a bigger handful than anticipated. Perhaps he decided to check up on Gwen. Maybe he just needed some time to himself. Jack had as much right to be affected by what had happened in the Beacons as any of them.

His gaze travelled, alternating between the clock on his mantle and the display of his mobile, watching the hands and the digital display crawl forward. His fingers hovered over the speed dial, wanting to punch the button and call, but reticent because he couldn't understand why he felt so distraught. He was tired. Tired and worked up over nothing. Ianto went to bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

The next morning was a bit of a puzzler. Ianto opened his eyes to find himself sprawled across Jack's naked chest with no clue as to how he'd got there. Well, that wasn't entirely true, he remembered going to bed and barely having time to punch his pillow or do much else before consciousness escaped him. But Jack had been absent. He glanced over his sleeping bedmate at the clock and grimaced. If he didn't get moving he'd be late for his appointment with the therapist.

The mattress shifted as Ianto rolled off of Jack and sat up. He took a deep breath, grimacing as he filled his lungs and expanded his rib cage. He did it a second time, avoiding looking at the damage that had been done to him. In a few more days the purple and blue would be dominated by shades of green and yellow as the bruises faded. Maybe he would look then, but not before. If he looked now, all he would see was his tenderised carcass, and that was an image he could live nicely without.

Surprisingly, his noisy breathing and clumsy motions as he got his stiff muscles working did nothing to rouse Jack. Ianto frowned. Under normal circumstances the captain was a light sleeper. Whatever had kept him away must have been especially taxing, because other than the steady rise and fall of his chest, he barely moved. In fact, he seemed dead to the world, his features slack and peaceful.

Ianto took advantage. He pulled a pair of jeans, a button down shirt, and the rest of the necessary clothes from his wardrobe and bureau and slipped quietly down the hallway to shower and dress. In the bathroom bin, he found Jack's shirts. Both were ruined, the cloth on the outer garment was ripped from the right collar point to the hem, and there was a corresponding tear in the cotton of the under-shirt. Both shirts had been rinsed before being discarded, but there was still evidence of bloodstains. Frowning, Ianto put the shirts back into the bin and got into the shower. Hot water did wonders for his muscles. By the time he finished rinsing the suds from his hair, moving his arms and legs was much easier, and the pain in his ribs had eased.

Even after he'd completed his ablutions, Jack still showed no sign of rousing. Realising the captain's dry cleaning was still in the wardrobe, Ianto got the clean shirts out and hung them over the door and then hastily scrawled a note and taped it to the front of the cleaning bag. Feeling resolute, and with business card in hand, he went to make the acquaintance of Joanne Tiptree, Licensed Therapist.

***

Though the neighbourhood had once been strictly residential, enterprise was making inroads and now private homes were outnumbered by chartered accountants, party planners, and other professions dominated by solo practitioners. Ianto consulted the business card one last time before pulling into the drive of a detached brick house surrounded by a rather whimsically arranged flower garden. He frowned. It wasn't that he had anything against flowers or gardens in principle, but it didn't mesh with his vision of how a mental health professional should conduct herself, and thus it put his guard up.

At least his prospective new therapist didn't meet him in her hat and gardening gloves, Ianto thought as she opened the door to her practice and ushered him into her consulting room. It looked out onto a garden as well.

She noticed him gazing out the window and smiled. "My flowers are my therapy, Ianto. Working in my gardens helps me keep my emotional equilibrium so that I can help you regain yours."

That at least seemed like a reasonable admission. According to Jack the practice was dedicated to helping those in military, law enforcement, and other allied professions; high stress jobs where loss was common and its members had an uncompromising familiarity with the harsher realities of life. "I see," Ianto replied and went back to studying the gardener rather than the garden.

Joanne, as she insisted on being called, was a woman he judged to be in her middle fifties. Her hair was blonde, although strands of silver were starting to appear in the shoulder-length waves. There were laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She used a minimum of cosmetics, just enough to give her cheeks and lips a bit of colour and bring out the sparkle in her deep brown eyes. Her baseline accent placed her as being Cardiff born, but there was a hint of something that suggested at one point she had lived elsewhere long enough to influence her cadence.

"So, Ianto," she said after offering a coffee he gratefully accepted and explaining a little about her methodology, "according to your boss, you've been living in interesting times."

Setting aside the mug seemed preferable to spilling it over his lap. Ianto regarded his new therapist with what he hoped was a reasonable degree of calm. Jack wasn't kidding. Within reason, and without use of retcon, he really did want him to spill his guts. "Is that what Captain Harkness told you?"

Joanne had a notepad and a file folder in her lap, but she didn't refer to either. "Survived the terrorist attack at Canary Wharf, only to spend the next few months nursing your terminally ill partner. Barely back on your feet and then when your new employer decides to take you on a team building exercise …" She trailed off and looked at him sympathetically. "I'd say your Captain Harkness has a way with an understatement."

Ianto nodded weakly and reached for his coffee, his thoughts spinning furiously as he tried to figure out how he was going to make his way through the next forty-four minutes.

***

Jack was missing again upon Ianto's return to the flat. He was all right with that. The session had consisted mostly of 'getting to know you' questions on Joanne's part, and a combination of true, partly true, and outright lies in reply on his, and he was exhausted.

There was no point in being other than truthful, so Ianto had been honest about describing his family background; his mother's illness, his father's inability to cope, and the role his older sister and grandmother had taken to pick up the slack. There was no reason to prevaricate about his youthful indiscretions, so he hadn't. It was only when he got to his London years that things started to get sticky. Torchwood One became a defence contractor and he a records clerk, which was close enough to the truth.

Lisa's cyber-conversion became cancer developed in the wake of exposure to all of the toxins released by the explosion. She had certainly been consumed by it in the end. As for the cannibals, they were all over the news, and it was true enough that part of the reason for Torchwood Three's presence was a team building exercise. Which only left the organisation itself to explain away as being 'Special Branch: anti-terrorism'.

Joanne hadn't raised her eyebrow, but Ianto had the feeling she wanted to as she'd asked, "And how did you come to work there?"

He should have had a pat answer, but most of the time he told people he worked for the Ministry of Tourism and no one gave that a second thought. Clerk in a kiosk seemed like a reasonable job for someone recovering from the trauma of having nearly everyone they knew blown up around them. "I wanted to come back to Cardiff," Ianto had replied after a long pause. "And they needed an admin." And if that admin could also sort out weevils and pterodactyls in addition to dry cleaning and lunch, well those were just unimportant details that Joanne didn't need to be concerned with. 

Jack had left the note Ianto had written next to the kettle. He had scrawled 'Good. I'll check in with you later.' across the bottom, and then added 'P.S. Thanks for the shirts.' Ianto set down the loose leaf notebook that described Joanne's practice philosophy and methodology in greater detail and new journal she had given him. He shook the kettle, and found it nearly empty. From the dishes in the dishwasher and the open packet of bacon in the fridge, it was clear Jack had helped himself to breakfast. Glad there were extras from the night before, Ianto made coffee and reheated Chinese food and then juggled it all, plate, mug, carafe and books into the living room. Unwilling to completely give into his fatigue, he kicked off his shoes and set up camp on the sofa, poured coffee, and picked up the journal.

_"You've undergone a lot of trauma in a short span of time, Ianto," Joanne had said when he'd finished giving his history. "Captain Harkness said that except for a few hiccups, you've been a model employee, and he wants to see you through this rough patch."_

_He had almost laughed out loud, but contented himself with a mere twitch of his lips. Only Jack would describe turning a cyberwoman loose on the Hub as a hiccup._

_Joanne carried on as if she hadn't noticed Ianto's suppressed display of mirth. "When you've been through a traumatic event, it's common to try and repress it. To pretend it didn't happen and carry on. Stiff upper lip and all that." She did a credible impression of a radio blue blood, and Ianto cracked a smile, even though he had an idea where she was heading._

_"Our subconscious doesn't like that approach. It's the part of our psyche that gets saddled with making sense of it all. So when we let go, at night when we're dreaming for example, the subconscious goes to work. Next thing you know – " She paused, waiting for Ianto to fill in the blank._

_"Nightmares?" he replied obediently._

_"Nightmares." Joanna handed him the journal. "It's important to keep a record. The sorts of images you use to frame the experience can be very significant. So when you wake up, first thing, describe as fully as you can your dreams. Even if they don't seem over relevant." She paused, took a sip of her coffee, and gave him a kindly smile. "This sort of processing goes on continuously, even when you're awake. You may find that you make tenuous connections to those traumatic events during your waking hours. When this happens, you may find yourself re-living those overwhelming situations."_

_Ianto had looked up at her bleakly. And there it was. It wasn't just his physical injuries that worried Jack. If something happened and he flipped his shit in the Hub, he could trigger a lock down or worse. "Flashbacks."_

_"Have there been such incidents?" Joanne had asked. She kept her voice gentle and non-judgemental._

_Ianto nodded his head and explained._

***

The phone, still in his jacket pocket, vibrated, startling Ianto out of reminiscing. He yanked the device from his pocket and thumbed the answer button. Jack had no doubt verified his location by the Audi's GPS tracking system before placing the call.

"Ianto." The captain was going for jovial but not quite getting there. "How'd it go?"

"It went, sir." If his reply was on the curt side then it couldn't be helped. Ianto was mentally wrung out after the short session. In his current condition it wasn't easy to keep track of the lies and half truths. It would no doubt prove difficult if he slipped up later, so he was in the process of compiling a mental list.

"Listen. I just wanted to apologise about last night. Something … several somethings came up. Oh! Tosh said thanks for thinking of her."

"I owe her," Ianto replied. He hesitated and then said, "Sir, are you all right?"

There were several seconds of muted background noise before Jack replied. "Yeah. Fine. One of last night's somethings wasn't quite as handled as I thought." There was another pause. More muffled voices laden with a sense of urgency.

"I'm much better, sir. If it would help, I can come in."

Jack didn't reply.

Ianto could almost hear him weighing his various responsibilities. "Right. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

***

It was closer to thirty when the proximity alarm sounded. Considering the team was on stand down, the Hub was remarkably busy. Tosh was at her station, typing with rapid fire keystrokes. Jack was standing at her shoulder, pointing at the screen and talking to someone through a headset.

Owen was in the medical bay. When he saw Ianto, his expression, already sour, turned venomous. "Jack," he yelled, "as your medical officer I strongly object."

Jack waved him off, not even glancing over his shoulder to see what Owen was complaining about. Ianto took that as a sign of how serious the situation was. He cut Owen off before he could disturb Jack further. "I came on my own. What's happening?"

Owen shook his head and then grabbed it. It was obvious that he was in a considerable degree of pain. "Ask them." He pointed at two ginger-haired men in their middle to late thirties who were dressed in dark clothes and bent over a laptop computer. They were similar enough in both features and build to be twins. As Ianto moved closer they looked up and he realised they were twins with identical sprays of freckles across pug-nosed faces.

"Our backup from Torchwood Two?" Ianto speculated.

"Whatever," Owen replied. "Seriously, Ianto, what are you doing here? And why are you dressed like you're going to an investment bankers' luncheon?"

Once again, Owen had been lucky. He'd come out of his bar fight with no visible marks other than his hangover. From the way he kept squinting his bloodshot eyes, he must have a brutal headache.

Ianto sympathised, even if the damage was self-imposed. He glanced down at the charcoal grey pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt and deep red tie and shrugged. He needed to feel confident and his clothes made him feel like he could take on practically anything. Ignoring the jibe about his fashion sense, he replied. "I thought I could help. Do I have your approval to make some coffee?"

The proximity alarm sounded again. Owen bit back an oath. "You won't keel over on me?" It sounded if he was less worried about Ianto's health and more about having work created for him.

The alarm cut out. Gwen strode in, saw the relief agents from Torchwood Two first, and yanked her gun from her handbag.

Jack turned around in his seat and practically dove out of his chair, putting himself into the line of fire. "Easy there, missy. These are guests."

Gwen glanced sharply at Jack, watched him nod a confirmation that the Hub wasn't under siege, took a breath, and reset the safety. She dropped her hands to her sides. "Sorry." She smiled apologetically. "I guess I'm still a bit jumpy."

Owen had been displeased to see Ianto, but he became absolutely incensed when he saw Gwen. He rushed up to her and grabbed her by the shoulder, making sure he had her attention. "You're supposed to be on medical stand down. Do you know what that means?"

A look passed between them. Ianto couldn't help feeling it was significant, and then Gwen replied. "I'm fine. A bit sore is all. Like a muscle pull." She deliberately removed Owen's hand from her shoulder and then shrugged as if dismissing his concerns. "I went for a drive to have a bit of a think and came down here to look at the water. I saw the cars in the car park." She turned her attention to Jack. "What's going on?"

Jack glanced round the room, at his team and at their guests. "I think it's time for a briefing."

***

The twins were called Cam and Jacob MacDonald, and they were introduced as 'recovery specialists'. Once everyone was settled around the conference table and pleasantries exchanged, Jack cut straight to the chase. "Late last night there was a spate of unpredicted and unexplained Rift activity. This morning it happened again."

Ianto followed Jack's gaze as he glanced around the table, gauging the effect his news had on the team. Owen seemed put out. Gwen curious. Toshiko frustrated that the Rift predictor had failed her expectations.

"Cam and Jacob checked out two of the events. Toshiko and I investigated two more. There wasn't much to find at the scenes, just some elevated tachyon and muon levels that suggested a portal had opened, slightly higher than normal levels of inert gases, and a couple of curious weevils. It might have been nothing, but then it happened again."

Toshiko tapped at the keys of her PDA. The display panel behind Jack's chair activated and then a map of Cardiff and its vicinity appeared. "The first incident. Four events. North. South. East and West. Exactly one mile apart from one another and all of them exactly one mile from this spot here. The second incident – " A new quartet of dots joined the first set. "Again, four events. But this time the spacing was twenty-five percent closer."

"That's strange." Gwen winced as she leaned forward and studied the map. "So, not a glitch in the system."

"Definitely not," Toshiko replied grimly. "This was a deliberate act."

"Still – " Gwen sat back and pushed a hand through her fringe. "– there've been no attacks. No unusual sighting reported to Emergency Services? That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"We've been monitoring in shifts since the events." Toshiko shook her head. "Nothing."

"Could it no' be a fishing expedition?" Cam – no Jacob – Ianto mentally corrected, said. Jacob had a half moon shaped scar above his left cheekbone, and this twin did not. "Someone looking to test your vulnerabilities?"

Jack frowned, mulling the idea over. "Precursor to an invasion force? Earth is a protected planet. I think the Shadow Proclamation would take a dim view."

"All the same," Cam added, backing up his twin's theory. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to pull a fast one."

"Cheerful, you two." Gwen took a sip of her coffee and frowned. "Are all you Torchwood Two lot so gloomy?"

"I think Gwen's right," Owen said. "You're jumping at shadows." He held up a hand to stall any protests and added, "Look. To be perfectly honest, I could use a little alien malfeasance about now."

The way Owen spoke suggested to Ianto that their doctor wasn't content with bar fights. What he really wanted was to kick some alien's arse.

"But what we have here isn't an invasion," he continued. "At worst, it's some three-eyed kiddie messing about in its daddy's laboratory."

Toshiko shook her head in vehement disagreement. It was obvious she was about to rebut Owen's argument, but something caught her attention. She pulled her laptop closer and began to type. The display updated. Four bright red dots superimposed themselves on the map. "It's happening again."

Jack clapped his hands together. He glanced around the table again, as if he were evaluating them as resources. "Right. Four incursion points. Seven of us."

Owen pushed his chair back and stood. He leaned over the table and pointed at Jack. "You've got injured people, Jack. You can't send Gwen or Ianto out. I forbid it."

"Noted." Jack's reply was crisp, but dispassionate. "Toshiko. Anything on the CCTV?"

"Already on it." She shook her head. "Cameras in the immediate vicinity were blown by Rift energy. Disruption to the traffic network. Traffic Division is already in route. Switching to the next locations in line … Still nothing. No life readings. No signs anything came through."

If anything, that seemed to irritate Jack more than if something had. "I don't like it. Get out there. Cam, Jacob, go sweep the area around the northern-most event. Tosh, you take Ianto and check out the one to the east. I'll take the one on the south side. Owen, that leaves you and Gwen to take the one on the west. Gwen, you're in charge of liaising with Emergency Services. See if you can keep them out of our hair long enough to get this checked out." Before Owen could offer additional protests, he added, "Gwen, Ianto, no heroics. Let Owen and Tosh do the heavy lifting. Let's move."


	3. Chapter 3

***

Ianto glanced out the at the passing Cardiff cityscape and then back at Toshiko. She had both hands on the steering wheel, but her grip was relaxed and comfortable rather than taut and nervous as she navigated her way through traffic. 

"So here we are, together again." Ianto gave her a weak smile. On the one hand, he was grateful for Jack's confidence in his ability to cope with the unknown. On the other hand, his cracked ribs were still giving him grief, his head ached dully, and he was completely out of his depth. Still, Toshiko seemed to relish the opportunity to confront this latest mystery, and if she wasn't worried then there was no reason he should be either, at least not yet.

"Together again." She smiled back at him. "And at least this time we know what we're fighting isn't human."

"No – " The spot on his temple where he'd been struck by a rifle butt itched under its bandage, and Ianto probed at it gently. "- but there is the chance they'll still try and eat us."

Toshiko tried not to, but she giggled. "That's what I like about you, Ianto, you're always such an optimist."

"It's my Welsh pragmatism showing through. Plan for the worst, and never be disappointed." He realised how he must have sounded and felt the corners of his mouth bow. "Thanks." They stopped at an intersection. The light was out of service and a harried constable was standing at its centre directing traffic. Ianto felt Toshiko's eyes on him as he glanced down at the meter in his lap.

"For what?" she asked. "Ianto?"

Ianto wasn't sure how to reply. He hesitated. The further they got from the Hub, the more his anxieties started to consume him. The small verbal exchange had pulled him out of his head and put him back in the game. "Perspective."

"Ah," Toshiko replied softly. 

The red spot on the meter was directly in front of them. "We should pull over here."

"Right." Toshiko glanced around. Except for the heavy crush of traffic they'd passed through to get to the incident scene everything seemed perfectly normal. Pedestrians and motorists going about their daily business with their normal disregard for one another. "It seems quiet enough."

Ianto resisted the urge to find something made of wood and rap his knuckles on it. "There's nothing but residual energy on the meter."

Toshiko nodded. "Right. You stay put, I'll go take a look around." She held her hand out, and Ianto gave her the meter he'd been holding. "Keep your comm open. I'll be on channel two."

Ianto gave Toshiko a thumbs up and a shaky smile. Hers was brighter and more confident; the hunter on the scent, eager to find her prey.

Seconds crawled by. Ianto's imagination kicked into overtime as a perverse inventory of possible culprits for the anomaly rolled through his brain and Toshiko disappeared from his line of sight.  
"Tosh?"

_"I'm here, Ianto. Trace energy readings consistent with what I'd expect to see. No life signs. No elevated radiation levels. It's exactly as it was last night. Higher than normal neon and argon levels and what looks like metal and plastic fragments. I'm collecting samples and then heading back."_

"Copy that." Frustrated, and temporarily left to his own devices, Ianto pulled a small pair of field glasses out of his coat pocket and scanned the area. From the perspective of Toshiko's passenger seat he saw nothing more than everyday life in Cardiff going on under a pale blue sky. Clouds were gathering, but there was nothing unusual in that. Rain was nearly ubiquitous as the mysteries thrown at them by the Rift.

Ianto waited until Toshiko reappeared from behind a line of parked cars and then he switched comm frequencies. "Jack."

 _"Ianto."_ Jack sounded pleased to hear from him. _"Tell me something that will make me happy."_

He felt slightly delirious. Perhaps it was relief that, at least for the short term, no one was going to try to kill him. Maybe he'd been too long out of bed. He really couldn't judge. "Your shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes."

_"Compliments are good, but I was hoping for a status report."_

Jack's frustration was sobering. Something was triggering the Rift, causing it to open and close on demand, and they still hadn't a single lead as to why. "It's all quiet here, sir. Tosh says the readings are exactly as they were last night. A slightly higher than normal percentage of neon and argon and some metal and plastic fragments."

_"Damn. Same here, and at the other sites."_

The attention signal pinged in his ear, Tosh trying to get a hold of him. "Stand by a moment, sir." He switched channels. "Go ahead, Tosh."

_"Ianto, I think we've caught a break. I've found a witness."_

It was hard for Ianto to keep the tremor of excitement out of his voice as he relayed the information to Jack.

***

They were gathered around the conference table, once more reviewing the latest computer analysis and projections. On the display was the map with the locations of the Rift incidents marked out. Each event was delineated by dots of different colours: red, blue and green.

"So what do we know?" Jack asked.

"Our witness saw a column of orange light, like a marker. We told him they were photographing the city from the air and it was a reference point," Toshiko said. "Explaining why it exploded could have been difficult, but he suggested a manufacturer's defect and I agreed. It saved us from having to use retcon."

"And do we know why it exploded?" Gwen asked.

"My best speculation is that whoever built it had designed it for use on a planet with lighter atmospheric pressure. But that's just a working theory. There's also the possibility they were damaged in transit. We can't rule that out."

"A marker?" Cam cocked his head and then said, "Curiouser and curiouser. It's as if they're converging on something." He rose from the table and traced a line with his fingertip from the north to the east and the south to the west, and then pointed at a spot in the middle. "Target lock?"

"Maybe." Jack didn't seem convinced.

"There's something else. Something that adds weight to that theory. This morning," Toshiko said, "the chance of an actual Rift event was less than five percent. Well within safety limits for a stand down."

"And now?" Jack asked.

"We're at sixty-two percent and rising. If the predictor measurements keep climbing at the current rate, there's going to be an event by midnight."

"Which is when you've projected the next one of these marker events could happen." Jack put his hand to his forehead and stared down at the ground. He blew out a breath and looked up again.

"What if these events have been a sort of message?" Jacob speculated.

"And picking up the phone would be too much effort?" Ianto hadn't meant to speak out loud, but the entire situation seemed ludicrous.

"Don't take it out on the messenger, Ianto, at least they're trying," Toshiko rebuked gently.

"If someone is trying to get our attention, then it seems the message is something is coming," Gwen interjected. "But the big question is what?"

"What indeed?" Jacob said softly.

Ianto glanced around the table, and at the map on the display, but no inspirations hit him, and as he studied the faces of his team-mates, it seemed they were just as stumped.

***

He was pushing past his limits, but as he leaned against the counter and waited for coffee to brew for the others, Ianto knew he really didn't have a choice. Everyone was on edge. Everyone was tired. No one had gotten a decent night's rest because they were either coping with their traumas from the Beacons or dealing the current situation.

The MacDonald twins had retreated to their lodgings to catch some sleep whilst it was still quiet. Gwen was stretched out on the sofa on Owen's orders. And although Toshiko had been up far longer than he, Ianto suspected that he would be the next one to be guided away from his workstation.

"Jack?"

There was a tone in Toshiko's voice that cut through everything: Ianto's pointless maundering about where he could sleep that wouldn't add to his aches and pains, the laundry list of chores he'd been compiling that would get behind because he was restricted from his normal duties, prioritising the things he could do, and coming up with a project that Jack would let him carry on with as part of his new training regime. All of it.

"What is it, Tosh?" Jack was on his feet, and leaning over her shoulder almost before the echo of his name had died.

Ianto filled mugs, added cream and sugar to those that needed it, and carried his tray down the stairs.

"Updated Rift prediction. There's now a ninety-two percent certainty of an event."

The tray was heavier than it should have been, but Ianto ignored its weight. He felt cold, as if a chill wind had blown across the floor of Hub. He wasn't the only one who seemed to feel what Tosh said was an ill portent. Myfanwy dove from her aerie and screamed as she circled overhead. Ianto watched her for a moment as acrid smelling sweat dampened his underarms. He tore his gaze away and took a breath. It took some doing, but he got his feet moving and approached Toshiko's workstation.

"Great. It certainly looks like we're in for something tonight." Jack noticed Ianto standing there with his tray and took a mug from it. "Thanks, Ianto." He frowned. "That tea tray's got more sparkle than you do."

"Sorry, sir. I don't mean to be a disappointment." Ianto kept his tone light, as if it were the old days and they were still capable of banter.

Jack's frown deepened. "Can you climb the ladder to my bunk?"

"I expect so, sir," Ianto replied as he set a mug down where Toshiko could reach it easily. "If Owen doesn't catch me."

"Then do it," Jack said. "I'm going to need everyone sharp tonight. And that includes you." He took the tray from Ianto's hands. There was one cup remaining. "Owen's?"

Ianto nodded.

"I'll take it. You turn in. You sure you don't need help with the ladder?"

Ianto shook his head, too tired to do more, and hoped he wasn't lying.

***

Torchwood Two's mobile command centre might have looked like a delivery van on the outside, but once inside it was an impression quickly dispelled. Ianto took in the banks of monitoring equipment and the neat bins and storage caches of tool cases and raised an eyebrow.

"It's not much," Cam said as he made himself at home in front of a keyboard and fitted a headset into place. "But it serves us well."

Ianto examined a rack of black boxes. "You seem to have a lot of surveillance equipment." 

"Oh, aye." Jacob pulled a tool case off a shelf, frowned at the contents and went to a bin. He pulled something metal and shiny out of a foam cradle and added it to the other box. "But ours is a fairly specialised operation, and knowing what other people are getting up to is a big part of it. It's no' like babysitting this Rift of yours."

"When we asked Archie what to expect on this assignment, he said, 'Well boys,' " Cam's Glaswegian accent became considerably more pronounced as he did a fair imitation of his station head. " 'It's a bit like those prize picker games at the fun fair. You're never quite sure what will be dropped through the chute. You'd be well served to stay on your toes.' "

Ianto considered for a second and then smiled a bit ruefully. "That's not a bad analogy."

"So no day is like any other." The whole time they'd been talking, Jacob had been shuffling through their equipment, evaluating possibilities and rejecting others. "Must make a body a bit edgy."

"It's definitely not like working at Torchwood One," Ianto admitted. "In at nine and home for tea again at five. The Rift likes to keep us busy."

Toshiko broke in over their conversation for a comm check. They answered in turn and then Jacob, finally satisfied with his kit, dropped into the driver's seat and they were away.

"What about you lads?" Ianto asked. He'd taken a spot at a secondary workstation, wondering why, with as much equipment as they had, Jack had never set up a mobile command operation as sophisticated as this.

"Oh, the odd hours are normal enough. And the waiting. It's all part and parcel for a burglar in the service of the Queen," Cam replied.

"Burglar?" The talk around One was that Torchwood Two was a somewhat dubious operation; its head gone a bit soft and its team composed of underachievers who spent their time scavenging at estate sales and auctions. No one had said anything about burglary. But then again, no one mentioned how Torchwood Three manipulated murder scenes to cover up Rift fatalities either.

"Oh, aye." Cam grinned and nodded, clearly pleased he'd managed to ruffle Ianto at least a little bit. "Some Charlie gets a piece of tasty, but naughty, kit. Something better no' left in civilian hands? We confiscate it on the sly." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Of course it's been a bit quiet lately. Most of our assignments came straight out of One, and now that they're gone we're at loose ends." He paused and his tone became quite sombre. "Archie cared little enough for Yvonne Hartman and the rest of her toadies when she was alive, but her death knocked the stuffing right out of him. You okay, son?"

Though it took an effort, Ianto turned his head and met Cam's gaze. Thinking about the fall of Torchwood One tended to leave him feeling cold and sick, that is when his stomach didn't burn with anger and loss. "Yeah. I'm fine. Sorry." He gave Cam a shaky smile. "I had friends that died at One."

An uncomfortable silence filled the van. Ianto felt the spectres of the dead crowd around them and knew he was letting his nerves get the better of him. They were going out into the field to face God knew what, and he wasn't ready.

"No, it's me that's sorry," Cam said. "Damn pre-mission nerves. Jacob fiddles with his toys and I talk too much."

"Heads up, boys." Jacob's voice was filled with suppressed excitement. "It's party time." They pulled into a deserted car park that faced the street. "According to the lovely Toshiko's calculations, that roadway yonder should be centre stage."

Suddenly the brothers were both all business. Cam flipped switches and tapped at his keyboard and monitoring equipment and displays came to life. "We can't measure your Rift energy, don't have the specialised equipment for it," Jacob said as he joined his brother in a last look over their equipment. "But we can measure muons and cosmic radiation. That's come in handy right enough."

 _"T-minus five minutes,"_ Toshiko said. _"Final checks."_

Ianto glanced at the MacDonalds. They nodded back. "We're ready, Tosh."

The comm went silent. The atmosphere in the van grew thick. Ianto tried to think of the innocuous things that fell through the Rift: curiosities like tentacled cuddly toys and antique photographs of stiffly-posed couples in their Sunday best, and not the monsters that could tear them limb from limb.

"Something's happening." Jacob tapped a monitor and they watched as the tachyon particle count climbed. "Isn't that a sight?" he added softly.

The signal buoys, as Ianto had taken to thinking of the neon orange pillars, cast the deserted street in an unholy, hellish glow.

No one in the van drew breath. Ianto stared at his watch and watched the seconds tick by. This was a mistake. He shouldn't be there. All the things that would go wrong flashed before his eyes. He crushed his eyelids shut and took a deliberate breath, forcing air past the constriction in his chest. Jack thought he could do this, so he would.

Out of nowhere a fierce blast of wind buffeted the van. "My God!" Jacob's voice was awestruck.

Ianto looked up at the monitor and watched the eye of the Rift blink open. There was a blinding flash of light and then everything went quiet again.

 _"It's clear."_ Toshiko sounded as awed as Jacob and Ianto knew exactly how they felt. It was a rare thing to be on site when the Rift opened. Normally they just dealt with the aftermath.

 _"Everyone hold positions. Give me a second."_ Ianto watched via one of the van's camera as Jack tumbled out of the Range Rover with a meter in his hand. Gwen followed after him, too consumed by her curiosity to follow orders.

It was a strange sight. The four signal buoys replacing the street lights they'd blown with a soft, orange glow. At their centre, a silvery sphere the size of a large beach ball hovered about a foot off the ground.

Jack signalled it was all clear. He waved the team forward, and then dropped to his knee to study the object further. Ianto watched as his expression went from curious, as if he were trying to recall something, to distinctly displeased. "Oh damn," he said softly, and then signalled the team should stop advancing. "Get back. We've got trouble."

"What is it?" There was a tremor in Gwen's voice as if she were frightened, but trying to suppress her fear. "Jack?"

They retreated to the Range Rover. Jack folded his arms against his chest as he leaned against the wing. "It's a bomb. A big one. I don't know this particular model, but the basic design's not uncommon. This sort of tonnage could take Cardiff right off the map."

"We've got to evacuate the city!" Gwen tapped her comm, presumably in preparation to contact Emergency Services.

Jack shook his head absently, most of his attention was still on the bomb. "Negative. There's not enough time for a full scale evacuation. Just have the police set up a perimeter and then back off."

"Jack!" Gwen protested.

"Not now."

Ianto glanced around the immediate area. It was a business district, all banks and office blocks, thankfully shuttered for the night. There would be few casualties in the blast zone, but if they didn't come up with a solution quickly that would be a small consolation to the rest of Cardiff.

Toshiko edged forward, the MacDonalds were close on her heels. "What's that writing on it?" She started taking photographs, feeding the data straight to the Hub's mainframe.

"You can defuse it, can't you?"

Jack ignored Gwen. He moved closer to the metallic sphere, cocking his head this way and that as he studied their nemesis.

"Cam, does this remind you of anything?" Ianto watched as Jacob nudged his twin's shoulder.

Cam nodded. "Oh, aye. The Aberdeen caper. Nasty one that."

"What's the Aberdeen caper?" Gwen asked insistently.

"Oh, just a spot of bother we handled a year or so ago." Jacob retrieved a pair of tool cases from the van and started digging around in one of them. "We handled that one, right enough, and came out of it no worse for wear.

"Ah, this wee beauty will come in handy." Jacob pulled a metal disc out of a pouch and held it aloft. He turned to Jack. "Captain. I believe we can help you out of your difficulty."

"Aye," Cam said. "It's no' the first time we've dealt with one of these bad boys."

For a second, Jack looked like he was about to argue, but then he gave the twins a curt nod. "Don't screw up. There's twice as much paperwork when the operative is on secondment. And since there's two of you it would mean double that."

The brothers grinned at Jack, and then Cam threw his arm over Jacob's shoulder and drew him away from the others so that they could confer in private.

Gwen glared at Jack, outraged at his callousness. Neither Toshiko nor Owen offered an opinion one way or the other. Tosh was busy gathering as much information about the scene as possible and Owen was grudgingly helping her. Ianto wondered why Jack would worry about paperwork at all. It's not as if any of them would be around to file incident reports if Cam and Jacob failed. 

Cam pulled a flask from his jacket pocket, flipped the cap open and took a knock from it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and handed the flask to his brother. "See you on the other side."

Jacob raised the flask in a toast to the rest of them, drank, and then handed it back to Cam. They smiled tightly at one another and then Jacob activated a switch on the disc. A soft humming noise emanated from the device and the air between the two Scotsmen and the members of Torchwood Three turned hazy.

Ianto barely had time to admire the ingenuity of the force shield. There was a new sound coming from directly behind him. A soft shuffling, snuffling sound that made his stomach drop. He turned as a weevil loped forward and bared its teeth. "Shit." He cursed softly, not wanting to show fear in the face of an adversary, and reached for the rucksack hanging on his shoulder. "Sir. We have a complication."

"Then deal with it!" It was clear Jack was tired of being interrupted when he was trying to concentrate on what was going on behind the force shield. Ianto could sympathise, he really could, but the weevil had brought friends.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Cam said. Ianto followed his line of sight. More weevils were converging on them.

"They're everywhere!" Toshiko's voice was ice.

"When it rains, it pours." It was obvious that Jack had gone from mildly annoyed at being interrupted to down right peeved when he finally realised the source of their consternation.

"Owen! Gwen!" Ianto lobbed cans of weevil spray to his team-mates. 

Jack caught a can out of the air. "What made you think of this?"

Ianto sprayed a blast of repellent into the face of the nearest weevil. "You said they gave you trouble last night. This is a hot spot." 

Jack seemed pleased by Ianto's initiative rather than disappointed by his pessimism. He grinned and then pulled his revolver. "Don't waste ammunition," he said coolly. "Shoot to kill if you have to."

They were cut off from the van and the Range Rover, trapped by more than a dozen weevils. Ianto felt sweat trickling down his sides, his shirt already sticking to his back although the night air was brisk. What the cannibals had started, the weevils were going to finish if they couldn't figure a way out of this mess. Behind him he heard the muted voices of Cam and Jacob as they went about their work. Weevils in front of him, a bomb at his back. He was going to die. He was always meant to die.

 _"But for some reason, you never do,"_ said a tiny voice in the back of his brain. _"You always live, Ianto Jones. There to clean up the mess afterwards."_

Although lately it had been others cleaning up his messes.

He took a deep breath and ignored the pain in his ribs. "They're not advancing," he muttered. "Why aren't the weevils attacking?"

"Are you complaining?" Owen sounded as tense as Ianto felt, but he was staring down a weevil, keeping eye contact as he trained his gun on the creature's forehead.

"Look at them," Toshiko said. "They're not concerned with us. It's the bomb. They're all looking at the bomb."

Ianto glanced to his left and to his right. The weevils were standing stock still. They were fixated not on him and his team-mates, but on the alien menace. Was it possible they recognised the device trapped by the force shield? Was this disbelief he saw in their eyes – that having escaped some hellish war it had followed them here to a place they considered foreign but safe?

For all their ferocity, weevils weren't animals. They had language and culture, even if it was indecipherable to the human scientists who had studied them. Their appearance made them frightening. They could be savage, attacking for no reason anyone could discern. But for the most part they kept themselves to themselves, as if they realised they were strangers in a strange land and there would never be any sort of understanding or accord between themselves and the other dominant species. 

On the other side of the circle one of the weevils bayed. The others joined in, an unholy, dissonant wail. Ianto glanced around and saw his team-mates tense. His gaze darted behind him just long enough to see Cam and Jacob, their twin faces drawn in harsh lines as they worked feverishly over the bomb, and he was tempted to add his voice to the cacophony.

"Shut up!" Owen yelled. He raised his pistol and shot at the air. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up!" Amazingly, the weevils quieted. "Thank you." He actually sounded polite after the rudeness of his outburst.

Ianto stared at him. At least if the weevils were mesmerised by the bomb and howling they weren't bent on tearing anyone's throat out. Now they were baring their teeth and swaying.

"We're at the tricky part now." Cam's voice was muffled by force field. "Just a wee bit longer."

One of the weevils got impatient. It lunged forward. Toshiko gave it a blast of repellent. It reared backward again and then the pack was on them.

"Shit!" Gwen fired and dropped a weevil. The ones around it shoved the body out of their way and advanced.

"Make for the cars!" Cam yelled.

"We won't leave you!" Jack yelled back. His revolver barked. A weevil screamed.

Ianto sprayed a cloud of repellent and the weevil that was reaching for him cringed and ducked, rubbing at its eyes. "Sir, it's getting a bit thick!"

"Off with ya!" Cam's accent thickened with stress. "We've got a plan!"

"Right!" Jack didn't sound happy, but Cam and Jacob were behind a force field and at least temporarily safe. "Everyone to me!"

They ran. Ianto sprayed burst after burst of noxious chemicals until only air hissed from the nozzle and then he chucked the can at a weevil's head. It was only a few yards, but the weevils were enraged and wanted to vent their frustration on something. Gwen made it to the SUV first and yanked the door open. She piled inside, Toshiko and Owen on her heels. Ianto ran for the Torchwood Two van. It was crammed with tech. Surely there was something amongst all that equipment they could use.

He wormed his way through to the front and dropped into the driver's seat and then slapped the steering wheel as he realised Jacob had the keys. 

"No way to start the bloody engine! Think, Ianto! Think!" 

He realised he was panicking. He didn't need to turn the engine over. The monitors in back were functioning. That meant if there were weapons built into the vehicle, they would operate as well. 

If only he knew where they were. A quick survey of the dash showed there were no red buttons marked 'Death Ray' or other obvious Q-inspired refinements. Torchwood Two was evidently too subtle for that. And if they had an operator's manual, it was kept somewhere other than in the glove box. 

Ianto gave the steering wheel another slap, venting his frustration. He glanced out the window. Weevils had surrounded the van during his search, and they'd circled the SUV as well. There was a thump as one of them threw itself at the van's wing and then the van rocked sickeningly as the first weevil was joined by another.

 _"Ianto."_ Jack's voice was cool. _"You okay?"_

"Yeah. Fine." If fine meant his heart was hammering so hard it might burst from his chest.

_"Take a breath and hang tough."_

Ianto nodded, although there was no one to see. On shaking legs he pushed out of the passenger compartment and stumbled into the back where he stared at the bank of monitors and watched as the weevils beat impotently on the Range Rover, and Cam and Jacob extracted something from the guts of the bomb.

 _"Time to go,"_ Cam said.

How were the two brothers going to get past the weevils? Jacob had something in his hand. He was looking down on his brother who was busy stuffing the last of his tools into his tool case. He raised three fingers. They positioned masks over their noses and mouths and then nodded.

 _"Take off as soon as the field drops unless you want to have a nice sleep!"_ Cam instructed.

Ianto had no way of escaping. He yanked open equipment bins and tool cases until he found a respirator and clasped it to his face.

 _"Ready, steady, go!"_ The force shield dropped. Jacob reared back and then hurled what looked like a pair of incandescent light bulbs out into the mass of weevils. They bounced against the pavement and rolled, spewing clouds of white gas that reflected the eerie orange glow of the signal lights.

The SUV tore away as the first weevil fell.

When he'd made his escape, it had taken Ianto approximately eight seconds to clear from his position to the van. He watched the brothers charge. "Six. Seven." He yanked the door back on its roller and Cam, followed by Jacob a half step behind, tumbled in. Ianto slammed it shut again and they stared at one another from behind their masks and grinned.

***

"What the hell was that all about?" Gwen sounded outraged, although if it was the bomb or the weevils or a combination of both that had provoked her ire it was difficult to say. It wasn't the first time she'd asked the question since they'd returned to the Hub, but the entire situation was nonsensical, and as they'd come to learn, Gwen hated it when she couldn't suss motivations.

Ianto watched data churn on Toshiko's monitor. He'd taken over minding the display whilst she turned her curiosity to the matter of the buoys and the bomb. He was tired, and the white and grey dots that represented the translation algorithm at work were curiously soothing to his overstretched nerves.

The dots on the monitor blinked a final time and Ianto blinked back as he read the translated message. "I might have an answer."

Everyone gathered round. Gwen was first, pushing into Ianto's shoulder as she stared at the screen. " _May it be the last_? What sort of a message is that?"

Jack stared upward as if contemplating the heavens and then shook his head. His chuckle was mirthless. "God save us from grand gestures!" He pushed a hand through his fringe and for a moment Ianto could see exactly how tired he was. "Somewhere out there, Gwen, two warring peoples buried the hatchet. As a symbol of their new-found peace, they wrote a message on a bomb and shoved it through the Rift, where presumably, it would explode far enough away from anyone to do any harm."

"But things come through all the time perfectly fine!" Gwen argued back.

"We know that," Jack replied, patiently, "but maybe whoever those fools out there are, they didn't."

"And the marker things?" Gwen persisted.

"Maybe not everyone was on board with the plan," Jacob said. "If you ask me, they seemed like they were sent on the sly. That is if somebody had the wherewithal to do such a thing."

"Some civilisations can." Jack looked as if he might say more, but he shook his head as if cautioning himself, and then he gave Cam and Jacob a warm smile. "You've been invaluable the last few days. I'm really grateful that Archie could spare you."

The MacDonald brothers exchanged a look and then shrugged. Evidently it wasn't the first time someone had abruptly closed a door on a conversation in that manner, and they knew better than to press. Cam stuck out his hand and Jack clasped it. "It's been an education, Captain."

"Go home everybody," Jack said. "Gwen, you're still on medical leave. I don't want to see you anywhere near this place until Owen says it's okay." He caught her gaze and held it. "Are we clear?" Gwen looked as if she might protest, but then she reluctantly nodded. "Owen make sure Tosh and Gwen get home safe. Ianto, can you stay behind a minute? I'd like a word."

***

Jack handed Ianto a glass of whisky without asking if he wanted it and then poured one for himself. "I wanted to let you know, I was watching you tonight. I was really pleased by what I saw. Your foresight with the weevil repellent probably saved lives."

Heat climbed up his face and Ianto realised he was blushing. He let his gaze fall and studied the cut crystal glass in his hand as Jack continued.

"It was a hell of a day, but you came through it with flying colours. I'm proud of you."

"A hell of a day," Ianto agreed. They lifted their glasses in silent testament and then drained them. Jack raised the bottle again and Ianto extended his glass. He needed the drink. He'd faced down weevils and bombs with the potential to level the city, but now that he was alone with his captain, his nerves were really starting to play up. "It's the sort that leads to long, restless nights." He met Jack's gaze, silently putting his offer on the table.

Jack's expression became surprised and then speculative. "What are you saying, Ianto?"

Maybe his timing was off. Maybe he should have found a different way. But it was too late, he'd made his insinuation obvious when he'd locked eyes with Jack and licked his lips, suggesting how exactly a restless night might be spent. "I'm saying, sir, I'd rather not spend mine alone. I'm asking if you'd care to come back to mine."

"Mr Jones, you're such a romantic!" Jack said in a mocking tone.

"This isn't a romance," Ianto replied. _It's probably not even a good idea_ , he thought to himself, but it was what he wanted. "No curtains. No pet names. No promises. Just someone to hold on to at the end of a long, rotten day."

The merry glint in Jack's eyes died as his expression turned serious. "You're sure that's what you want?"

"It's what I want." Ianto held out his hand. After a moment, Jack took it and they shook, sealing the deal.

"I'll get my coat."

Ianto beat Jack to the coat tree, removed the greatcoat and held it open, once again the perfect valet. He smoothed the wool over Jack's shoulders and felt the ever-present spark of attraction jump between them. It was obvious Jack felt it too. He licked his lips and pivoted, pulling Ianto into his embrace before kissing him softly.

It was a curiously intimate act given the business-like way they'd just defined their relationship, but it didn't really surprise him, the ability to compartmentalise was a skill they both shared. Now that the deal was struck they could give themselves over to fulfilling their desires. What Jack obviously wanted after their long and arduous day was a little tenderness. And if Ianto was quite honest with himself, then he had to admit that suited him just fine.

End


End file.
